


Somethin' Stupid

by coloursflyaway



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is in love to the point where he cannot breathe without falling for Sebastian even harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somethin' Stupid

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Нечто глупое](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607231) by [fandom_EvanstanStarbucks_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_EvanstanStarbucks_2017/pseuds/fandom_EvanstanStarbucks_2017)



> Inspired by Somethin' Stupid by Frank Sinatra, which I probably listened to two hundred times while writing this.

Chris cannot imagine a place where he would rather be right now.  
They are in a bar somewhere in a town whose name he cannot remember, but it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t need to know the names of the few men and women of the crew who have tagged along either, he doesn’t even need to know the name of the ridiculous Sebastian ordered for him with the brightest grin and the sweetest twinkle in his eyes, because Sebastian is beautiful and sitting right next to him. All smiles and grand gestures and the delicate tendrils of an accent curling around his words, like they always do when the other has had a few drinks.  
And he’s beautiful, so beautiful that Chris cannot stop himself from thinking it over and over again.

It's not a subtle kind of beauty, but it’s not the one which feels over the top and otherworldly, it's like a sunrise, a clear river, pure and untouched and incredibly precious; it’s inevitable and impossible to run from, like nightfall, like the changing of seasons.

“-anyway, and I totally slipped on the top of that car again. And again. And _again_. Must have been, what? Chris, help me out here. Four or five times?”, Sebastian shoves him lightly when he doesn’t answer immediately, forces Chris to come back to reality and talk and think and not just stare, and it’s good, because Sebastian’s eyes are on him, and they are kind and the brightest of blue.  
“At least”, Chris replies, takes a moment to remember. “More likely six or seven, to be honest. Just be happy no fridge was close by, it would have been a disaster.”  
Sometimes it still surprises him how easy it is to just joke around with Sebastian, to lose himself in banter and insults neither of them mean, but then Sebastian laughs, and Chris remembers. Laughs too, and keeps his eyes on the other.

“Thanks, Chris. You’re a wonderful friend, really.” There is laughter still in his voice when Sebastian answers, tints it just like his accent does, and makes Chris feel more intoxicated than any drink ever could. He’s always loved the way the younger man says his name, makes it sound like something special and not a name every second man in this world seems to have.  
He loves the way Sebastian’s name tastes on his tongue, too, slightly exotic, smooth and seductive, and so, so fitting.  
“Just admit it, you’d be absolutely useless without me.” The words come out light and joking, but deep down, Chris desperately wishes they were the truth, that he could whisper them into Sebastian’s hair at night, write them on the soft skin of his thighs with his fingertips.

“Completely”, Sebastian agrees, easily, with a smile, and it hurts a little, a slight sting, a dull ache. Because it’s just a joke to the other, even though Chris needs it to be the truth.  
“Jeez, guys, get a room”, Anthony chimes in from the other side of the table, and Chris can see the warning in his eyes, the _Don’t get to close, you’ll get hurt_ , because Anthony knows. Of course he does, they are friends after all, good friends even, and although Chris has never told Anthony, he knows he didn’t have to.  
But there is another thing he hasn’t told him, which is that it’s too late, that he has already gotten far too close.

“Ah, you’re just jealous”, Sebastian replies, not missing a beat, and Chris is glad for it, because he isn’t sure if he could have thought of anything to answer. Anthony sighs, and Chris smiles at him for a second, then looks back at Sebastian.

 

 

People come and people go, and in the end, it’s just him and Sebastian, and it’s as great as it is frightening. The other is drunk, Chris can see it in every of his movements, which usually are so graceful, and now a little sloppy, a little clumsy; in the hazy look in his eyes.  
But drunk Sebastian means Sebastian who likes to touch and likes to be touched just as much, sits close to Chris’ side and tilts his head so that sometimes, his hair brushes over Chris’s arm. It’s soft and longer than Chris is still used to, and sometimes, at night he thinks about threading his fingers into it while kissing Sebastian breathless.

“’m gonna get another drink”, the other announces and takes Chris off guard, who for a moment wants to say, _don’t you think you’ve had enough already?_ He doesn’t, though, of course he doesn’t, because it’s not his place. “You want me to get you something?”  
Sebastian’s smile is as bright and as warm as the sun, a little lopsided, and Chris’ heart swells a little; he shakes his head nonetheless. He can feel the faint buzz of alcohol already.  
“You’re such an old man sometimes”, Sebastian teases, and Chris just smiles, watches the other walk back to the bar for what must be the eighth time tonight.  
It gives Chris a few moments to think, to breathe and try to pull himself together.

It’s not at all new, it’s the oldest thing in the world, or seems to be, but sometimes, Chris is still surprised just how easy it is for him to lose himself in Sebastian. A smile, and he’s gone, a touch to his shoulder is all it takes. There is just something about the other man which draws Chris in and doesn’t let him leave again.

Sebastian returns before Chris is anywhere close to having finished thinking, his eyes still blue and his features still beautiful, but he looks annoyed, almost angry, as he sets down two glasses, one in front of Chris and one just next to him.  
He waits until Sebastian has sat down before he speaks, daring to put one hand on the other’s slender wrist. “What’s wrong?”, he asks, and Sebastian makes a small, displeased noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t pull his hand away.  
“Oh, just one of those men at the bar”, Sebastian finally answers, after a pause which goes on for far too long, and Chris wants to hold his hand so badly that his skin starts tingling, crawling, aching. “ _Hey beautiful, whatcha doin’ tonight? You’re sure as hell lookin’ lonely, can I buy you a drink?”_  
It takes Chris a second until he realises that Sebastian is mocking the man who tried to chat him up, imitating him.

“Beautiful”, Sebastian repeats, and silently, without showing it, Chris agrees with that other, faceless man. “Like I’m a teenage girl who needs to be wooed.”  
And Chris feels bad, but when he looks back at Sebastian the next time, he can’t help but think him beautiful. Because he is, like grass is greet and chocolate is sweet, Sebastian is beautiful.  
He can’t say that, though, not before, and especially not now, so Chris squeezes his fingers slightly around Sebastian’s wrist, feels muscle and sinews and skin, and says, “Well… you are very attractive after all.”

( _Beautiful_ , his lips try to say, but Chris forces the words back into his chest before they can reach the air.)

Chris expects Sebastian to scoff, to call him an idiot, but the other man doesn’t, just looks at him, his eyes warm and full of something Chris cannot read. “Thanks, I guess?”, Sebastian replies and takes a large gulp of whatever fancy cocktail he is having, but even that cannot conceal the smile stretching his full lips wide.  
When he puts the glass down again, a clever, pink tongue darts out to lick away the last hints of sweetness off his lips and the smile, but it’s too late. Chris is already smiling back, his heart aching and maybe just cracking a little, because the words _I love you_ are on the tip of his tongue, written across his skin, shining out of his eyes; they sound through the air with every beat of his heart and are hidden in every breath he takes. But he can’t say them out-loud, can’t risk it.

So Chris turns away and takes a sip of his own drink, tastes sugar and alcohol and a hint of orange, and Chris imagines that that is what Sebastian’s lips would taste like, too. His eyes drift close, and over the music they are playing, he doesn’t hear the other’s soft sigh. Doesn’t see those blue eyes losing their brightness for a moment before Sebastian wills it to return, doesn’t notice the half-spoken words clinging to the other man’s lips.  
When he looks at Sebastian again, Chris is smiling, lips stretched wide and eyes bright; he hurts, but that’s alright. Because Sebastian is beautiful, and Chris can’t remember how it was not to be in love.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


End file.
